but you know me i had to smush it down in two gulps amost chokering myself but i loves sugar too much so i eat none in recovery,narly

i did so good with no sugar playing the ignoramus to chip cookies, syhining on dognuts and twisties
and then a young fellow just marches up and thrusts a cupcake into my hand and in a gulpo or two(it probably tasted good, i do seem to recollect)
it was done deed and the cake was eaten

ways to heal

including just slowing down and breathing

how doth all these little thinkies intermingly

just back from my walk
my mind is buzzardly busy
and so i just enjoyed noticing stuff
like
there are a whole lotta whispy little white insects floating around
and a myriad of caterpillars slinkying about

wanting the more and settling in to the last common ancestor

picking such healing strong familiar
and just listenering to Yes doing a concert a la francais 31 yrs ago
they are wearing shirts which say
NO on them
and they are tuning up to the strains piped in of Star vinski's
the rite of spring
(i like the french le sacre du printemps b etter

also thinking of le petite madeliene and le grand proust
and his room of corked wood

of late
talking to an elder
and how i listenered in with mind and soul
and somehow
kept my correcting device mechano hushed and shushed whilst she spoke
hers was what some might call le petit bourgeiosificationed view
of
being gratitude
feeling blessed
doing something fun everyday
zero grand schemata for a new way to be a part of humanness
just thinking of what to have for her chowder et al

though i couldn't agree less
i couldn
t disagree at all

we must, or we won't; we needn't, if we don't want to be needled

we must freedom our selves with our artlings
we must away-from the 'oar domes and the scarrings

up and avast
theirs is western in our spaghetti
theirs is healer songstarling in our awakeningificationarying

we must moisten our cores with the herbal ginger, wryly glistening
and we must awe ourselves with the non listening


how came we to be holstered and upholstered by the fearmunchers?
within they settle like sooners on the hoary plains
and within a blossom's frail 'twixt glass lifeplate
like a scraping unto the biologist's thickset pyrex paddles

we knew the wholeness of going way beyong all rage
unto a turmoil-lacking fulsome core-resurrection sashay,yea

being old? it ruckles

all of us are going to be so old sometime somedayit must be very rough to have the 'parts' of one's very own and only body to start coming apart at the joints on one...

babybirdling, the eggsky is a falsehood

babybird you are within the egg
and O, tis gloomy therewithin

you peck and you scrabble and yet
the innards insist
Pull the bits of roofegg back
don't let them go a tumble

we'll be roofless and vulnerable

no above all else
we mustn't break through this dullard's brownsky diameter

o but babybirdling
do Oh Do breakthrough

it's harsh out here at times
but surely
this is the place for flying,ye?